Is it the good fight?
by DagnyShrugged
Summary: What's worth fighting for? Why do they both fight so hard to hide their feelings for each other? Cal/Gil


First fanfiction. Kind of starts in the middle of a conversation. Cal/Gil.

Please review! That'd make me happy :)

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"Why do you fight it so hard?" Cal asked in a frustrated sigh.

"Fight what?" Gillian responded, looking up at him when she answered because his voice had just changed somehow.

In a soft, broken tone, Cal replied, "Why do you fight _me_ so hard?"

Gillian didn't know what to say. She was stunned into silence. This couldn't be headed in _that_ direction. Could it? She stayed quiet waiting for him to continue, or at least give her some kind of hint of how she was supposed to respond.

So Cal took the opportunity to keep going.

"You put so much effort into pretending that there isn't something here—that you don't want this. I just can't pretend with you anymore."

"Cal…" Gillian said in her warning tone.

"No. Before you even begin going on and bloody on with 'respect the line,' and 'stop reading me,' you can be certain that is _not_ what I'm doing. Gil, anyone can see that there's something here, deception training or not. How am I supposed to ignore it any more? You want to talk about reading you? Because we can go there. I mean, why not at least put it all out in the open. There doesn't seem to be any going back now, does there? You can't just wish the conversation away, as much as you might want to right now."

"Cal," Gillian tried again with force as tears were welling up in her eyes.

For once, Cal wasn't sure what to make of her. Why was she crying? Did she think that this was the end of them if he kept pushing? Could she see that all his pushing had finally lead him to pushing them, instead of everyone else around them? Maybe, he thought, she should give him some credit that he had resisted this topic for as long as he had. After all, they both knew how long this mutual attraction had been going on for. And that was exactly how it started. Pure attraction, for both of them. No one had been able to keep up with the loose cannon that Cal was, and Gillian, Cal knew, had never felt so challenged or exasperated by a person in all her life. Life was thrilling when they were together.

But attraction doesn't mean anything. Not really. That's why neither one of them gave it a second thought when they decided to work together. They did after all, have some safety nets in place anyways. Cal had a wife and daughter when he first met Gillian. And Gillian was about to marry Alec, the "love of her life." Total rubbish Cal thought, but Gil seemed to believe in those sorts of things, and that was one of the first things Cal realized he loved about her.

And now here he stood, watching the woman he loved on the verge of tears. Maybe though, the tears were for some other reason. Maybe, he thought, she was crying as a sort of welcomed release of everything they had never said to each other. Unloading all these feelings was like a dam breaking.

Yes, that had to be it. Because Cal, for his part, seemed to be off his game as well. Sure, he was still pushing, but not in his hard, aggressive, characteristically loud way.

Instead, his voice was quiet. And he seemed to be wrestling not with what to say, but even managing to get the words out at all. Oh, he wanted them out all right, but wanting something as opposed to actually following through on it was why they were here in the first place, wasn't it?

They stared at each other for a few long moments. One begging for this to stop, the other pleading for the release they both needed.

"Look love," he tried to reason, "it's really not about reading each other any more. We work in an office with cameras everywhere. Do you know how easy it would be for me to pull up any number of feeds to show you how you feel about me? Do you?"

Now she was mad. That he could see.

"It's one thing to read me Cal. It's another to call me on it. But you are completely beyond normal boundaries if you think admitting to reviewing our conversations with each other is going to get you anywhere!"

"I didn't say I did it love. I said if _you_ needed proof of how you felt, I could show you. But I've never needed to do something like that. But maybe it's the other way around. Maybe you need to see proof of how I feel for you. Because I get the feeling that you think I'm spouting nonsense. Or maybe you need to believe that."

"Go ahead Cal," Gillian practically yelled "assume anything you want, it's what you always do anyways. Until you've bullied everyone around you into submission!"

When did they switch roles, he wondered? Wasn't she supposed to be the voice of reason? It seemed she was a hurricane coming to beat away at his shores until there was nothing left of him.

"I want an answer," Cal said calmly.

She looked confused.

"An answer to what? When did you ask a question?"

"The first thing I said when I came in here darling, why are you fighting this so hard? Why are you fighting _us_ so hard?"

"There is no us Cal," Gillian replied in her now even tone, mask firmly in place.

"Oh, there's an us. There's always been a bloody US!" Cal screamed.

And suddenly, they were both playing the part they were supposed to again. And somehow Cal knew that he was finally getting somewhere, because she was letting him bully her. Just a little.

Gillian Foster was not the type to put up with Cal's overflowing dominance. And if she wasn't stopping him, or kicking him out, he had to be gaining the advantage.

He stalked towards her as he said, "Now answer my question," taking pause in between and putting extra emphasis on each word.

She looked a little frightened, but there was something else. While he didn't want to scare her, he saw something. A brief flash of lighting in her eyes. And he knew that the thunder was coming next, he just wasn't sure how far away it was. Or what it would be.

Was she going to jump him, or slap him? For a moment, he wasn't sure he cared, as long as there was physical contact.

She decided something, he could see the change in her, she was about to do… something.

But then her office phone rang, and it made them both jump. Cal thought his heart could have beat out of his chest in that moment. Damn telephone. But he stood there waiting as she rushed through the conversation.

At least she wasn't using it as an excuse to push him out he door. That had to be a good sign. Whoever was on the other end of line, Gillian was saying her goodbyes to. This was it.

She put the phone down, stayed where she was, and looked at him for a few seconds. He looked broken. Like he had just stood outside in a hailstorm and not bothered looking for cover. She knew she had done this to him. But, there was still something hopeful in his gaze, like the sun trying desperately to break through the clouds.

This was it. She could either be the end of him, or help piece him back together.

Suddenly, the answer was so simple to her. Hadn't this been what she was trying to do since the day she met him? Piece him back together? Maybe this was why she was never able to fully heal his wounds, _she_ was the missing piece. He needed her—completely.

She approached him slowly, because if anything, he was definitely standing on the edge of a cliff right now.

For his part, he was frozen once she started moving towards him. Afraid to move for fear that she'd stop walking towards him.

She stopped with only enough room left for that invisible line to fit between them. Then she reached across with her right hand, and took his left. And as she did, she took that one last step closer to him and ran her other hand across his ribs to the center of his back, just holding him.

He could feel her breath on his ear and knew she was about to say something. He held his breath, because although this embrace felt different from all the others they'd shared, he couldn't let himself believe this was going to turn out good until it actually did.

Gillian took the hand that had been holding his and brought to the back of his neck then ran her fingers through his hair and pulled a little bit. Not enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that she wasn't letting go. And as she made that fist in his hair, and he felt her breath on him, she whispered "I love you," and continued holding him.

He felt the tears in his eyes, threatening to cascade down his face in torrents. But he was the man here, so he'd hold it together for the both of them, because he knew that if he was on the verge of tears, they must be streaming down her cheeks.

So he pulled back slightly form her hold, wiped some of her tears away, and put his hand on her cheek, making sure she was looking at him when he said, "That's all I ever needed to hear, love."


End file.
